Protect
by dancinglemur
Summary: 2007 Megatron/Elita-1, VERY pre-war. That was why she had picked him over Optimus: she did not want to be the protected, she wanted to be the protector.


Summary: That was why she had picked him over Optimus: she did not want to be the _protected; _she wanted to be the _protector. _2007 Megatron/Elita-1 _Very _pre-war.

A/N: ...this pairing is now living in my brain and it is ALL YOUR FAULT, ONI!!! (I don't blame you though, because now you've converted me XD) And for any/all of you die-hard Optimus Prime/Elita-1 fans, this is my exploring/rationalizing (to myself) the possible reasons why Elita might choose Megatron over Optimus, so don't freak out because it's not your cup of tea.

* * *

Optimus Prime, Elita-1 mused as she strolled across the grounds of the Governing Complex, was anything and everything any femme could ever want in a mech. Kind, caring, loving, ever-understanding, more patient then any Cybertronian had any right to be. Yes, he was truly any femme's dream mech.

And yet, and yet he was not for her. The pink femme shook her head and chuckled ruefully at remembering her Creator's annoyed rage when she had turned down the new Prime's suit. Optimus, she had been able to tell, had been very disheartened and much saddened by her rejection (and that had truly almost made her regret turning him down) but had accepted her decision without complaint, bid her good day, and had quietly left.

But she had her reasons. The first being that, with Prime, though she would be loved and cared for above all else, being with him would mean being…coddled, almost. Life with Prime would be a peaceful one, full of love and serenity and most likely a family later down the road, all of them being looked over and protected by Optimus.

That was not what she wanted.

No, she wanted something else, something that she was certain the Prime could not give her. But then, that was why she'd turned him down, sweet and caring and loving and understanding as he was. She turned him down because she had someone else, because she had _him, _the one who was the epitome of what she wanted from her life, and the one who could help her achieve her goals. The one who could (and would) give her what Optimus could not.

She was let in without the smallest comment or slightest resistance, the doors all opening for her as she traveled deeper into the bowels of the Cybertron Military Headquarters.

She did not want to be _protected_. She wanted to be the _protector. _She wanted to be able to stand up and fight with every last inch of power in her body in order to protect her home and her friends.

She hesitated, only for a moment, before the last door between her and _him. _Then she squared her shoulders, palmed the keypad, and walked through the door. The room was in shadow, a large, gracefully intimidating shadowy mass reposing in the darkness. The entire room, Spartan though it was, was filled with his commanding, awe-inspiring aura. This was a mech _made _to lead, even more so then his brother, who was chosen by Primus to be their Prime. While the other inspired hope and trust, _her _lover made you want to swear yourself to him, shell and spark – he was a born leader, and he wore his power and position like a cloak that he could fan and expand at will.

Maybe that was why she had picked Megatron over his brother. Of all the mechs on Cybertron, who could better understand this desire of hers than the Lord High Protector? He knew what it was like to want to want to devote your entire life to the protection of others. He understood that no one could afford to be coddled, or to put themselves defenseless at the mercy of others. He realized that things could not continue as they were, and that this easy, decadent lifestyle they of the upper class had grown accustomed to _was _going to come to an end, and _soon_, and that the ones who were to survive were the ones that were already preparing themselves for the hardships to come.

Or maybe, maybe, she reflected as her lover's crimson optics glinted dangerously at her from where he sat in his chair, silver moonlight glinting off his frame from the small, high window in the room (Megatron was truly the opposite of Optimus in every way. Even their offices reflected this. The Prime's was high in the tallest building on Cybertron, all wide, glass windows with beautiful, sweeping vistas of this planet of theirs; Megatron's, however, was deep in the bowels of that same planet, illuminated only by that one, small window.) Maybe it was because Optimus was too… tame for her tastes. With him, while there would always be an ever-present, comforting love and devotion, Megatron's affections were not so simple. One could never be sure of the Lord High Protector's affections, and to receive them you had to _earn _them, and even then, _keeping _them was a constant, grueling, wonderfully challenging battle. He infused every atom of her being with fire, made her feel like she had lightning dancing across her plating and high-grade pressing against her insides: He electrified her entire being, challenged her and made her grow at every turn, made her _improve _and _advance _and _develop_ instead of growing lazy and compliant like she would have under his brother's care.

Loving Megatron was a dangerous, daring, challenging thing, and he never let her forget it.

Silence uncurled between them, hot and a diligent sort of lazy observance. He really _was _like a predator. Like one of those… felines, yes, that was the word, that they heard stories of from far-off organic planets. He was all lazy, deadly grace, in complete control at all times and aware of that and loving it. Elita trembled under his heated, lazily sharp gaze.

"Optimus came to visit today." She broke the silence, her voice bored disinterest, giving away none of the feelings he was eliciting in her with just his presence and his optics. She knew how to play this game as well as he. It was testament to her skill at the game, how she still held his affections after this long.

Moonlight glinted almost menacingly off of sharpened denta as his mouth pulled back in a fang-showing smirk. His silence indicated that she should continue.

She wandered further into the room, strolling over to one of the few shelves that held other things then datapads and other reports. She picked up the model of Cybertron and turned it over in her hands, feigning obliviousness to his presence. Amusement tinted the air.

"Like you don't already know…" She muttered under her breath to herself, a wry grin twisting her faceplates. She heard his smirk widen and him rearrange himself on his chair (It _was _only a chair, but the way he sat on it and arranged his presence around it made it seem more a throne.)

She traced the model's rendition of the Great Rift, the massive canyon that almost split their planet in two, and kept her face perfectly blank for the sake of the game. "He asked my Creator and I for permission to court me." A soft snort came from the throne-chair, and she acknowledged it with a small upwards twitch of one of the corners of her mouth. _She_ waited, now.

Was the fact that he snapped up the bait much sooner then she anticipated a sign of impatience, boredom, or of an anxious and true desire to know?

"And?" His voice was smooth and dark as silk. If he was anxious to know her answer, the tone of his voice did not betray him.

Elita decided to cut to the chase. She put the globe down and crossed the room to stand at his feet, staring up at him. The difference in their size did not intimidate her – she was strangely tall for a femme of her model and make, and even though Optimus and his brother were also abnormally large for their frame-types, the distance between their heights was not as much as one might think. He stared down at her, face and optics unreadable, his smirk and his sly, menacingly lazy aura gone.

She tilted her head slightly to the side, evaluating him as he did her. Then, softly, "I said no."

She could have sworn she saw some previously invisible tension release from his giant frame, but she couldn't be sure. He shifted again, beckoning her closer with a twitch of his fingers, inviting her up. She took it without hesitation, bounding gracefully upwards to settle astride his hips, hands taking up their familiar spots on his sides. His own hands curled around her waist and back, holding her close.

"Why then, little femme, did you spurn my _dear _brother?" He purred, beginning to absently trace-scratch the Ancient Cybertronian rune for "Possession/Mine" on her back and thighs. She shivered, and traced the corresponding rune of "Yours" on his abdomen, and she knew that the subtle shiver beneath the gentle stroking of her fingers was not imagined.

She paused to think, and he rumbled deep and low at the ceasing of the movement of her fingers. She absently shushed him, drawing a light, wandering line along his chassis with the tip of a single finger as she tried to think of the best way to explain this.

"Because you can give me what he cannot." She finally said. "Optimus is loving, kind, and compassionate, yes, but he is not what I need. He does not challenge me, and if I had chosen him over you, my existence would be a boring, sheltered one." _ A __**protected **__one; not the role I want. _The last went unspoken. He already knew that part of her argument, knew it without her having to say it because, on some same base level, he was exactly the same.

The growl of his powerful flight engines upped several gears and suddenly she was being crushed to his chest. Her most recent intake whooshed out of her and she stared up the small distance into his now-fierce face without fear.

"Prime will love you and coddle you," He snarled in her audio, fierce and possessive and wild and untamed and _raw _in a way that made her shiver just delightfully. "But, while _he _may protect _you_, he will not allow _you_ to do the same for _him_. He will put you on a pedestal, something to be admired and loved and protected from afar. _I _on the other hand," His grip tightened almost to the point of pain, but she only gasped softly and arched into him, still keeping their optics locked. "_I _will measure and judge you as a soldier first, and mate second. I will see and remember that you are just as flawed as the rest of us, but also with a near-infinite space for growth and improvement." Her spark warmed at the praise and she gasped again, hands coming up to stroke his neck and shoulders. He hissed and pressed them even closer together. "As my soldier, _mine,_ you will protect me and be protected in turn, and ultimately we will work to protect and defend and preserve all of Cybertron." He grinned suddenly, wickedly, and she cried out when he dipped his claws into her wiring, trying to return the favor on the areas her fingers rested upon. "I can offer you, and deliver, what my brother cannot," He purred into the crook of her neck and she whimpered softly at the vibrations. "And _that, _little femme, is why you chose me over him."

* * *

Because, like I said to Oni, while Elita and OP might be forever-one-true-love-so-sweet-it-rots-your-teeth, Movie!Megs is a sexy beast (and knows it) and you can't deny that their relationship would be siginifcantly more interesting then Eita's and OP's.

So how'd I do? What are your thoughts on Megs/Elita vs. OP/Elita? Drop a review and let me know!


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